Autobot Officer Meetings
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: An occasion where a human should run screaming in the opposite direction...


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&R

(Crack as usual. Enjoy!)

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><p>Humans were small creatures; Organic bipedal bags of organs with a good brain and a healthy dose of an uncanny knack for getting in over their heads in a potentially lethal setting.<p>

An Autobot Officers Meeting was one such occasion where a human should run screaming in the opposite direction.

"Jazz, why are you so happy that you have to go to an Officer's meeting?" Sam asked warily as the recently taped back together saboteur done a funny little hop and a skip at seeing the purple band after weapons practice on his schedule that morning, the purple band taking up most of the rest of his day, which, courtesy of Prowl, was taped on a giant whiteboard of some kind above the Energon Dispenser, with all of the activities/duties colour coordinated.

"Because all us Officers get to skive that meeting about the Base Rules." The silver mech almost purred with a dazzling grin, waving to a scowling Sideswipe who was attempting to mop the floor with Smokescreen on the X-box.

"Sam, they just do boring stuff, like organising missions and play dates for bots that don't get along." Sideswipe commented, cursing colourfully as Smokescreen's character shot his with a starship, "Mech! That's total overkill!"

"Not my fault, find shelter the next time!" the doorwinged mech chirped back as Jazz rolled his optics behind his visor.

"That is basically what we do." Jazz shrugged down at the human that placed his hands on his hips and stared up at the mech.

"Then you won't mind if I sit in on it then will you?" the young man said as Jazz subtly winced.

"Uhh, well… you know a lot of sensitive information gets passed around…" the Head of Special Operations muttered as Sam shrugged.

"I've kept you guys secret all through my college years." Bumblebee's human charge replied smugly waiting for Jazz to cave with an expectant look.

"Fine," Jazz mumbled crossly, flexing his clawed servos almost nervously, "I'll ask Prowler."

"Ask me what?" the deep baritone voice of a familiar black and white, doorwinged mech from the entrance to the Rec-Room, his ruby chevron, sharp and deadly, glinting under the false lights of the hanger. "And my name is Prowl, Jazz."

"Sammy here wants to sit in on our Officer's Meeting." Jazz said putting his servos behind his back like a sparkling that had stolen the last energon goodie from the jar.

Sam, defeater of Megatron and finder of the Matrix of Leadership, very nearly decided to run for his life as amber optics, with the intensity of miniature suns turned on him with a calculating look, the SIC of the Autobot's long clawed fingers twitching and flexing as if he was about to attack the human that stood watching him warily. "I don't see why not." The Praxian said finally as Jazz eyed his mate incredulously, "Please remember that you brought it on yourself Samuel."

With that the cold, graceful, half Decepticon, flicked his doorwings and stalked from the room, his optics once more focusing on a data-pad, Jazz running after him with urgent clicks, whistles and low rumbling humming that made up the Cybertronian language, his face a mask of concern.

_**===Officer Meeting=== **_

"Do you really think that allowing Sam to come was a good idea Prowl?" Jazz asked from his chair around a specially crafted table where Optimus was sitting at the head, writing speedily on a data-pad before sliding it across the table to Prowl, who scanned over the list with a prominent frown.

"It'll teach him to keep his nose in human affairs." The doorwinged mech rumbled, tapping a stylus against his bottom lip plate before writing down a line under the Prime's before handing the data-pad to a fretting Jazz.

"But we'll traumatise him! There is a reason these sessions are Officer's only!" the silver mech tried to reason, stealing his mate's stylus and jotting down his own choice before skittering the pad across the table to a fidgeting Red Alert.

"Relax Jazz." Ratchet snorted as he stomped in, dragging Wheeljack by a glowing helm fin, the whining engineer complaining about his unfinished projects as the grumpy CMO shoved him into his designated chair beside an excited looking Ironhide, whose cannons whirred and would have discharged had they not been deactivated for meetings after he nearly took out a wall the last time he got excited. "Humans can repress memories just the same as we can."

"Am I the only one who cares if we mentally scar a human for life?" the saboteur said as Ratchet received the pad going around the table and scanned the other suggestions with a laugh.

"Yes. We've had too much fun over the vorns stop this." Optimus said as the pad was slid back to him. "So… Prowl and Jazz. You're up first since you picked the same."

"Aww…" Red Alert sighed as Inferno; the only other bot privy to these 'Top Secret' meetings patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry Red; we'll still get a go."

Their hubbub of discussion was interrupted as Sam trotted into the room and with help from a stair case, made it onto the table before the bots.

"Welcome Sam," Optimus said, inclining his helm to the curious looking human as Jazz and Prowl rose from their seats, the rest of the bots chuckling as they walked over to a large screen and a weird looking contraption stuck to the wall. Prowl reached forward and snatched up two controllers, tossing one to Jazz as the screen booted up.

"What are they doing?" the human frowned, mildly confused as Red Alert bounced in his seat in what Sam could only figure out as giddy joy.

"They're away to have a dance off to Michael Jackson 'Thriller'." Optimus said, reading from the pad, "And then… Ratchet and Wheeljack suggested we play that board game of 'Monopoly' we got last week, then Ironhide suggested a few rounds of 'Bop it', I suggested a 'Ping Pong Ball' tournament, and Red Alert and Inferno want to dance to Katy Perry on the Wii Wheeljack modified for us."

Sam stood gawking at the bots as they all turned to watch Jazz and Prowl move gracefully to 'Thriller' as it poured from the speakers, each earning perfects every move. "But… But what about the important stuff?"

"On that gets done in the first five breems." Ratchet shrugged as the song ended, Prowl smiling smugly as they both received the same score. "We did it while we waited for you to get here. We also managed to compile our game list for this month."

"Wait, Wait, Wait." Sam finally managed with a squeak, "Are you telling me, that Officer Meetings are just Game Nights?"

"Duh." Jazz grinned as Wheeljack withdrew the enlarged 'Monopoly' game from his subspace and set the game up, a protest coming from Ironhide as he and Ratchet fought over the Scottie Dog. "How do you think Officers relax?"

"I guess you haven't told him about the Orgy we have afterwards?" Prowl commented blandly, his voice tinged in a teasing tone that only those who had known him for vorns could pick up on, from beside he TIC as he examined his Token which appeared to be a man on a horse's back.

Sam, Defeater of Megatron and finder of the Matrix of Leadership fainted on the spot.

_**===Meanwhile=== **_

Sideswipe yawned as he and the other bots sat through a painful, processor killing seminar explaining the rules of the base and how humans are not meant to be used as Volleyballs, even if they were encased in Zorbs.


End file.
